


Fractured

by delicatelyglitterywriter



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s05e07 Amy's Choice, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 06:50:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20093083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delicatelyglitterywriter/pseuds/delicatelyglitterywriter
Summary: What if the conversation in the TARDIS, alone with the Dream Lord, had gone differently? Amy reflects on this, and struggles with the implications of it.





	Fractured

**Author's Note:**

> **Content warning:** heavy rape/non-con themes throughout, particularly in the first scene. The act itself is not written into this fic; it cuts away before anything happens, and then is referenced throughout the rest of the fic.

“And now he’s left you with me.” He glitches; teleports. “Spooky, old, not-to-be-trusted me. Anything could happen.”

It takes Amy a second to process his words, her mind too distracted on where he’s teleported to, and how he’s changed his appearance. A slouch. A smirk. A provocative choice of outfit. She’s seen this kind of look before far too many times. It’s not always been so alarmingly obvious as the Dream Lord has chosen to make it, but the feeling is still the same: heart dropping to the pit of her stomach, muscles tensing as she freezes up, a chill running down her spine, her fists discreetly curling into balls. Fear. Terror that shakes her to her core. 

It’s a familiar feeling, but this time it feels like it has higher stakes. She has no idea who, or _ what _ she’s dealing with - at least in the past she’d known something of the guy she was up against, even if it was just the very simple fact that they, too, were human. This is way out of her depth, and she doesn’t know what to do. She wants to be sick, she wants to scream, she wants to run, all at the same time, but she can’t seem to get her body to cooperate with what she wants. Her eyes flick down to his crotch, mostly out of habit. She takes a deep breath to calm herself, and, as she does, a thought flashes through her mind; a familiar, comforting thought.

_ What would the Doctor do? _

Talk, is the immediate answer that comes to Amy’s head. He’d talk, and ask questions, and get to know his opponent before making a move. He’d just his words. She takes another deep breath and boldly takes a step towards the Dream Lord, ignoring the slight shake of her legs. It’s just from the cold, she tells herself. 

“Who are you?” she demands, doing her best to imitate the quiet confidence she’s seen in the Doctor when he asks the same thing. “And what do you want?”

The Dream Lord tilts his head, his smirk widening. Amy reflexively takes a step back.

“Oh, Amelia, I thought that was obvious.” He glitches again, reappearing in the same spot she stands, sending her toppling over, onto her back. She yelps as she falls, just able to keep her head from knocking against the floor.

She looks up at the Dream Lord and instantly wishes she hadn’t. He’s baring his teeth now in a perfectly predatory grin, like a lion about to devour a lamb. Slowly, he kneels down on top of her, one leg on each side. Amy’s blood feels like it’s frozen, and she feels like her heart has stopped beating. She wants to - she _ needs _ to - do something, _ now _, but she can’t make herself move. She can do nothing but lie there, paralysed with terror as she listens to the next words that come from the Dream Lord.

“It’s you.”

His hands slip under the blanket and her top, slowly snaking their way up her sides, touching, _ feeling _ her as if she’s a porcelain doll. His hands are warmer than she’d expected, and it’s this warmth that snaps Amy out of her state, and she begins to squirm, her own hands coming to the Dream Lord to push him away.

“Get off!”

She can’t push him away; her hands go right through him. Her whole body should be able to go right through his, and she should be able to get up, but she can’t. He feels like he’s sitting on top of her, trapping her, and when she tries to interact with him the same way, it doesn’t work. She feels her jeans come loose, and she fights harder, but in vain.

“No! No! No!”

* * *

Amy gasps awake, and all at once she knows it was a dream. She’s in her bed, in her room on the TARDIS, and she’s laying in a pool of her own sweat. Chest heaving, she climbs out of bed, almost robotically, her mind still reeling from her nightmare. The floor is cold, colder than she’s used to, and she shivers. Tears prick behind her eyes, and she swallows thickly, forcing them back.

It was just a dream.

It was _ just _ a dream. 

It was just a _ dream _.

It was _ just _ a _ dream _. 

She’s safe now. The Dream Lord can’t get to her. He can’t hurt her, not now, not ever. He never could have hurt her in the first place. He had never been real. 

Why, then, does he still terrify her? 

Perhaps it’s because he was spooky and inhuman; part of the unknown. Something Amy couldn’t fight simply because she hadn’t known how. Perhaps it’s because he reminded her so much of other guys who _ had _ wanted to hurt her. Or, maybe, it’s because he had been a projection of all the darkness inside the Doctor and presented the very real possibility that the Doctor could hurt her like that if he wanted to. 

But the Doctor would never do that to her. Right?

She used to believe he would never, and she still desperately wants to believe it, but now she’s not so sure. She’s always thought of the Doctor as ‘not like other guys’, because he’s not, really. He’s alien. But he’s still a man. How many of those animalistic urges does he share with guys like Robbie, who cornered her behind the library at the school dance and tried to shove his tongue, amongst other things, down her throat? 

He’s still a man, and right now, that scares Amy more than anything else. It scares her even more than the crack in her bedroom wall does. And it breaks her heart she can’t even tell the Doctor about it.

He wouldn’t understand. He’s a man; he doesn’t know what it’s like to live in fear everyday of losing his autonomy in such a violent way. Granted, it’s usually not a debilitating fear; more a subconscious reflex, dictating caution, but it’s fear nonetheless. She’s not sure if aliens are socialised in a different way, if patriarchal and misogynistic views are universal - in the literal sense of the word - or something more confined to places like Earth. But she can’t ask, not like this. Not when she’s already fractured. One word from the Doctor is all it would take for her to break. 

She trusts him, but not that much. Not in this way.

He’s good, but he’s still an alien. He has a lot to learn about how to interact with humans. She can’t tell Rory either; he won’t understand.

She needs another woman to talk to. Someone who she knows will understand, not just someone who will pretend to, for her sake. But there’s no other woman on board the TARDIS, and she’d feel weird asking the Doctor to take her to see a woman. 

Amy doesn’t even realise she’s crying until she tastes salt on her lips. She brings her hands up to her eyes and hastily brushes them away, sinking back down onto her bed. She doesn’t know what to do. She closes her eyes, and quickly opens them again when she sees the Dream Lord behind her eyelids. She drops her forehead into her hands, not bothering to stop the tears. She’s tired, she’s scared, and she feels alone. 

“I’m a woman.”

Amy’s head shoots up to see River standing a few meters away. She’s so shocked, she stops crying.

“River? But _ how _? Why?”

“Not really,” River says. “I’m just a TARDIS voice interface, made to mimic River’s appearance, voice, behaviours, ideas, and such. I’m not really here, but I’m essentially a clone of River in holographic form.”

Amy can’t explain why, but River’s presence is comforting. Or, not-really-River’s presence. Either way, the hologram is essentially River, and it’s comforting. She feels herself relax a bit, and almost smiles. River gives her a sympathetic smile.

“What’s bothering you, Amy?”

Amy sighs, looking down at her feet, before spilling out all the thoughts that swirl around in her head. She tells River the story of the Dream Lord and the two dream worlds, and tell her about the encounter in the shared dream, as well as the nightmare she just had, and she divulges all her fears about what this means for her, and for the Doctor, all of it. Once she starts, she can’t stop, and everything inside her head tumbles past her lips. By the end of it, she’s crying again, though she’s trying really hard not to.

“Oh, Amy,” River murmurs empathetically after Amy’s finished. Amy’s head is hanging low, her fingers curled tightly around the duvet as she sobs. She longs for River to touch her, to hug her, though she already knows she can’t as a mere hologram. 

River, or Not-River, stands there, not doing anything, but in her mind Amy does feel a comforting presence that’s not her own. She doesn’t know what it is, but it’s not scary. It’s not like the Dream Lord, where she had to fear what she didn’t know. It’s more like opening a Christmas present, where she can be excited about what might be hiding inside the box underneath the wrapping paper. She welcomes it. It feels like a hug, or a hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day. Warm, welcoming, home. 

She’s not sure how long she cries, but her eyes are all cried dry by the time she’s done. She swipes at her eyes as best she can, making a note to have a shower as soon as she has the energy to do so. She looks back at River, who hasn’t gone anywhere.

“Better?” she asks. Amy nods.

“A bit.” River smiles at her. Amy manages to smile back briefly. “Am I safe. With the Doctor, I mean?”

“Of course not,” River said without missing a beat. “He’ll always take you dangerous places, and there’s no guarantee you’ll make it out alive. He’ll do his best, but there’s never a guarantee. But you’re not in danger of him ever hurting you like that. I promise. He’ll never do that.”

“How do you know?” 

The words are out of Amy’s mouth before she can stop them, but she can’t help it. She has to know. She has to know for sure that he’ll never do that to her. 

“I’ve known the Doctor a long time,” River sighed. “A very long time. I’ve seen my fair share of the Doctor becoming angry, or losing control of his emotions, or being tired of trying so hard to be a good man. But in all that time, he’s never hurt anyone. Not like that. Never like that. There’s no reason he should be starting now.”

Amy sits with River’s words for a long minute, before nodding. They don’t ease all of her worries, but it’s enough that she feels like she can breathe again. She probably just needs a it of time, to learn to trust the Doctor again. She manages to smile weakly at River.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime. I’ve left River’s - the real River’s - number on your bed stand, in case you want to call her.”

The hologram flickers and then disappears. Amy flops backwards, staring up at the ceiling, and takes deep, calming breaths. She does feel better after talking about it, even if it was to someone who wasn’t really there. She tries closing her eyes again, but the Dream Lord is still there. She sighs again. She’s not getting any more sleep tonight. 

She sits up again and reaches out for the number left on her bed stand, and her phone. She’s dialling River before she even really knows what she’s doing. She doesn’t even know why she’s calling River. It just feels right. River answers after the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, River. It’s Amy.”

“Amy!” she sounds surprised, but not upset. “Nice to hear from you! But how did you get this number?”

“TARDIS voice interface thingy gave it to me.”

There’s a pause on the other end. 

“Rough day?” River asks knowingly. Amy shrugs.

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No, I’m okay.” Amy sighs. “I guess I just wanted to hear your voice. That sounds weird, but it’s just...I don’t know. This feeling that your voice would be really nice to hear.”

“That’s not weird.” She can hear River’s smile. “I get that feeling sometimes, too.”

Amy smiles her first real smile since waking up from the nightmare. 

“So, what have you been up to? Heisting or whatever? Or something else?”

River laughs. “What are you up to? When did you most recently see me?”

“The Byzantium. Maze of the Dead and all that.”

“Oooh, I haven’t done that one yet!” River said happily. “Maze of the Dead, sounds exciting! What else have you done? I mean, adventures without me.”

“We went to Venice and encountered vampires,” Amy said, her mind flashing back to a couple of weeks prior. “Except they weren’t really vampires, but alien fish.”

“Tell me more.”

Amy lays back down the wrong way across the bed. She grabs her pillow and stuffs it under her head, settling in for what she knows is going to be a long, but not at all unwelcomed, conversation. 


End file.
